


Telephone

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: You can have a lot of fun on a telephone line (as long as there's no operator to listen in).
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Telephone

“Hello?” the voice that answered was small - hesitant. It hurt Charles Emerson Winchester III to think that the man he loved most of anyone on Earth still felt out of place in their home - in his world. 

“Darling, are you well?”

The voice brightened instantaneously. “Fine, Major. Working late?”

“No, happily. I am simply downstairs.”

He could hear Klinger’s confusion from the first word. “Then why are you calling me?”

“Honey said you had not been down today. I thought you might be feeling ill, or, perhaps, that you wanted some time to yourself.” A private person himself, he understood the need and worried, sometimes, that he held Klinger too near, kept him too much to himself. It was, he usually rationalized, the former Corporal’s  _ fault _ ; how was he supposed to resist touching him? 

“You  _ live here _ , Charles.”

“I am aware. However, it is a large house.”  _ With a carriage house and a widow’s apartment _ , he didn’t add. 

“Come home, silly. I’m fine. I just got caught up working on a tricky design.”

Relieved to hear it, Charles glanced across the room to be sure the door to the office was closed. “If that is the case, my love, do you happen to recall the other night when you commented that I had a very good tongue?”

“Major!”

Charles bowed his head to chuckle; Klinger didn’t scandalize easy - but he sure sounded it now! 

“You do not recall?” he asked, counterfeiting concern at this lapse. “My head was between your legs at the time. Ah, you  _ do  _ recall. I can tell because the way that you are breathing now so closely echoes the way you were breathing then.”

He could easily imagine Klinger’s fingers - lovely, strong, nails flecked with glitter - digging into the fabric of whatever was near at hand. “Sir,” he spoke from between his teeth, “the  _ phone _ .”

“There is no operator to overhear us, darling. It is an internal line.”

“Oh.” 

“Shall I go on, or would you like to, ah, lie down?”

“Way ahead of you.”

“Excellent. And Corporal?”

He knew that the title (and Klinger actually held a higher rank now, anyway) always sent the man’s stomach plummeting, always made his abdomen flutter and tremble in a way that was nearly too lovely to believe. It reminded Klinger of their courtship, their flirting banter when nothing was certain and everything was charged with wanting. “Yes?”

“In your place, I would undress.”

“Sir?”

“That was an order, my dear.”

Talking his beloved through the next steps was simple enough; Charles had known how much his voice affected Klinger almost from the start. He rarely chose to deploy it so thoroughly - and had certainly never done so  _ over a phone line  _ (though there were some rather racy recordings somewhere in their private stash - why have a recorder, else?) - but he listened to Klinger’s breathing with a doctor’s ear and said, “Stop.”

“Stop!?”

“Are you questioning my orders, Corporal?”

“No,” he said - but he didn’t sound happy about it. 

“Good. I will see you in a moment. If you have come before my arrival, I will be very disappointed.” The phone clicked into place on the sound of Klinger’s frustrated whine. 

Knowing that Klinger was listening for his feet on the stairs made climbing them very promising, and he cast off clothing as he went. Eyes that managed to be both lust-dark and lust-dazed met his as he entered their bedroom. “How beautiful you are,” he praised that prone form. Was Klinger actually  _ trembling _ ? It was a heady thought. “Your earrings are in, I see. Are you appearing tonight as my good soldier or my good girl?” Usually, he could tell how Klinger wanted to be treated based on cues (sometimes he was a combination of both roles, or switches rapidly back and forth between them; Charles did his best to keep up and cherished them all).

Klinger lifted his fingers to his forehead. 

“Ah. I might have known from the salute.”

“Permission, sir?”

Charles came nearer, stroked slowly down from his neck. “You’re relieved, Corporal. I will take it - and you - from here.” He leaned down to nuzzle into his hair, to speak into his ear. “I trust you are quite ready for me?”

Klinger assured him he had gone through the motions, but the Major had another plan for him anyway. “It just so happens that I did the same.” 

Klinger whined. “I won’t be able to! I’m so close!”

“So don’t limit yourself. I have all night.” 

This was upper class, Klinger knew, for “fuck me twice if you want to,” and there was no way he was turning the offer down, even if he didn’t trust himself to do more than splash oil around, because he couldn’t even endure his  _ own _ touch - not now. 

Winchester just watched him with amused eyes, pleased to have gotten to him so thoroughly - all with his tongue. “That’s it,” he guided him, enjoying the way Klinger was just  _ shaking _ . “Open your eyes. Let me see you.”

Klinger had no idea how to tell him how overwhelming the combination of his pale eyes and his accented, refined voice could be, but he tried to obey, saying only, “You’re a really demanding recipient, Major.”

“Learned it from you.”

“That’s  _ begging _ . It’s not the same.”

Charles’ breath sped up. “You want me to beg?”

Klinger laughed as best he could with what breath he still had. “You don’t know how.”

“Please come for me, Max. Please. Scream my name.”

Much as Klinger hated to prove him right - turned out he was pretty damn good at begging, actually - what else could he do?

Tangled up with him, he lifted his dark head. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“You like it.”   


“Why didn’t we do that before - the telephone thing?”

“I had, ah, forgotten it was there. Before you, I never would have thought of _ this _ ,” he gestured, “at all.  _ You _ ,” he stroked over his pretty mouth, “are a delightful and terrible influence.”

“Honoria’s gonna be all over you for leaving your jacket and shoes on the steps.” 

“Certainly.”

“Is that smirk your way of saying you don’t regret it, Major?”

“Regret it? First, nothing between us is concluded. Secondly, I anticipate no regrets, other than the old ones that made me hesitate to allow you into my heart, into my bed, into my life.”

Klinger nuzzled into his shoulder. “If you’d have waited too long, I would’ve come looking for you.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

The next day, Honoria very much did give Charles hell for his haste and his mess, scolding him for being unromantic. But later, she told Klinger, as she had many times before, that she was devoutly glad Charles had acquired a weakness -  _ him _ . “You’ve made him m-much m-more human,” she teased. “Do you have any i-idea how difficult it is to get s-sympathy from someone with no weak-weaknesses?” 

“He always had weaknesses. He just didn’t know he was  _ allowed  _ to.” 

Reminding him of Charles during the war years, she said, “When he thought that h-he was going to die, he was sad to give up s-s- _ scrod _ . That's pathetic.”

They laughed together (lovingly), before she added, “Thankfully, that was b-before you. It is to be devoutly hoped he has expanded the l-list.”

Klinger knew what she was angling for; this was an old game. “I think he has,” he agreed, “but I’m not telling you what with.”

“You’re no f-f-fun at all.”

Eyes sparkling, Klinger began, “Well, alright, you’ve twisted my arm, so he really,”

The horror in her eyes made it difficult to go on, but he got at least one more word out, before she shook her head, “No. No. Never mind.” 

He winked at his sister-in-law (or she would have been had such a thing been legal) and said, “Don’t play chicken with a kid from Toledo, kid.” 

“You know I’m ab-absolutely telling Ch-Charles that you  _ did _ tell me.”

Klinger knew that he really ought to defend the man he loved - but Charles was tough. He could take it. Besides, if he got too flustered, he’d sneak down to the office later. He knew how to work a phone, too. He’d been a clerk, hadn’t he?

End!

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
